


Sanctuary

by intergalactix



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intergalactix/pseuds/intergalactix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Funny, she thinks, how even in a place called Sanctuary, the true sanctuary she finds is in him.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Just needed to get some shameless John Hancock fluff out of my system. This oneshot features my female Sole Survivor named Sol. Her name is the Latin word for the Sun, and is a play on words with the title _Sole_ Survivor, as well as one of Hancock’s pet names for a romanced SS: sunshine. I’m not clever I know. Enjoy! : >
> 
> You can also find this fic on my tumblr by clicking [here](http://sirenfromspace.tumblr.com/post/133698917658/title-sanctuary-author-sirenfromspace-fandom).

When Sanctuary Hills comes into view at long last, Sol feels her shoulders slump with immense relief. For days she has been dreaming of nothing more than collapsing onto her own bed, rather than the random sleeping bags and worn, dirty mattresses she and Piper came across as they navigated the Commonwealth. After a long afternoon of travel, it is nothing short of a miracle that they made it back to Sanctuary an hour shy of sunset.

She is more bone-weary than she remembers being in a long time, her limbs sore and heavy, her vision unfocused and blurry along the edges. She has adjusted surprisingly well to the new circumstances of her life since emerging from Vault 111, all things considered. Each day she grows stronger and more capable, her body adapting to her new environment. Even so, long periods of travel, intense combat, and the seemingly endless search for her son got to her as it would anyone, physically and mentally.

Sol presses forward, determined to at least make it across the threshold of her home before she surrenders to her exhaustion.

Beside her, Piper breathes a long sigh, and Sol imagines the journalist must be feeling just as relieved as she is.

“Finally!” she says. “I could really go for a nice, warm meal and a nap.”

“A _long_ nap,” Sol says.

Piper laughs. “A really, _really_ long nap.”

“I think we’ve more than earned a few hours of proper sleep,” Sol continues. On cue, her body forces a long, drawn-out yawn out of her. “Or, you know. A few days, maybe.”

Piper laughs agains. “You’re reading my mind over there, Blue.”

They eagerly approach the bridge leading to the small settlement, greeted by the hum of the turrets that guard the entrance as they begin to cross. A small smile comes to Sol’s face, glad to see the defenses still in-tact and functioning properly, not blown to bits and pieces. Part of her always worries when she has to leave Sanctuary for more than a few days. She has done everything she possibly can to ensure the safety of her little community when she cannot be there to protect them herself, personally constructing numerous turrets and arming her neighbors to the teeth with all the weaponry she has been able to scavenge across the Commonwealth. Nevertheless, she worries. She tries not to, but she has come to care greatly for this second family of hers, and would hate to lose them on top of all she already has lost.

A frown briefly creases her brow at the thought, and she desperately tries to push the painful memories out of her mind.

“Well, well,” Piper says in a mirthful tone, bringing Sol out of her thoughts. “Can’t say I’m surprised to see you waiting around, Mr. Mayor.”

Looking up, Sol sees Hancock casually leaning against a battered lamp post, his arms folded across his chest. He grins at the two of them when they stop several paces away from him, and Sol can’t think of a better sight to come home to. As much as detests being apart from him, she loves coming home to find Hancock already waiting for her, anticipating her arrival, the way he always does when she ventures off without him.

“Saw you two comin’ from my guard tower,” he says with a shrug.

“Guard tower? You mean Sol’s roof?” Piper counters with an arch of her brow. Sol laughs softly under her breath. Hancock does have a bit of an odd fondness for high places, the roof of her home included. As good a guard tower as any, she reckons.

“Hey, I thought you might like having your own personal welcoming party,” he replies, pushing himself off the lamp post. With a flourish and a dramatic tip of his hat, he continues, “So, welcome home, ladies.”

Piper snorts and shakes her head at his antics, and Sol smiles the most sincere smile she has been able to manage in the entire week and a half she and Piper were away.

“John,” she says, feeling even more relieved now, a warm, soothing comfort in her chest.

He straightens his posture as he focuses his attention solely on her, his dark eyes impossibly bright. “Hey, beautiful. C’mere.”

He holds an arm out in invitation and beckons her to come closer with a nod of his head. Sol eagerly closes the remaining distance between them and steps into his embrace, wrapping her arms securely around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. Hancock’s fingers clasp the back of her neck as he cradles her close, pressing a kiss into her dark hair.

In the meantime, Piper quietly slips past them with a knowing smile, heading further into the settlement in order to allow the couple some privacy. Sol and Hancock might not be shy about their affections, but that doesn’t mean she wants to stick around and give them an audience.

They stand there in the road for several minutes in silence, simply enjoying one another’s presence now that they are together again. Sol’s eyes have closed and she listens to the sound of Hancock’s even breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against hers. She turns her head and rests her cheek against his shoulder instead of her chin, breathing in the familiar scent of his coat—a bit musty from age and wear, though mostly smoky, caused by a combination of cigarettes and campfires. She sighs softly when Hancock idly begins stroking her hair, twirling a few loose strands from her braid around his index finger.

When he attempts to pull away from her, Sol immediately opens her eyes and tightens her grip around him, not allowing him to move. Hancock chuckles and angles his head to look down at her as best as he can in their current position.

“Everything good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, though her tone is not nearly as convincing as she hoped it would be.

He doesn’t reply right away, though Hancock does manage to pry himself from her just enough to look down at her properly, regarding her with a look of concern.

“Yeah?” he echoes in that voice that tells her he doesn’t believe her.

Sol tries to hold his gaze but she finds herself looking away, knowing that if he kept looking at her like that she would give in and spill her guts to him right then and there. Hancock is much too perceptive for her to ever be able to hide anything from him… not that she wants to. She trusts him implicitly, and has already confided in him many times, just as he has confided in her. Now, however, with her brain already half-fried and threatening to shut down on her, she simply doesn’t have the nerve to talk about her emotional turmoil.

“I’m fine,” she insists. “Just worn out and… really glad to be home. That’s all.”

“Missed me that much, huh?”

She smiles and laughs, genuinely, grateful for the intentional change in subject. The thing she treasures most about their budding relationship is the fact that Hancock never pushes. He is patient and generous with her, and he never looks for more than she is able or willing to give, but he will no doubt be there when she is ready.

Funny, she thinks, how even in a place called Sanctuary, the true sanctuary she finds is in him.

“Guilty,” she says.

Hancock smiles back at her and says nothing more after that, instead framing her face with gentle hands and bringing her in for a kiss.

Sol’s mind goes blissfully quiet, her troubles forgotten as her thoughts become filled with nothing but Hancock—the warmth of his mouth, the way his lips move with practiced ease over hers. She can still count on both hands the number of kisses they have shared, remembers each one with near perfect clarity, and each time they grow more and more familiar with one another, falling into a perfect, comfortable rhythm. Smiling, Sol feels around for the front of his hat and tips it back just slightly to allow her more space.

Kissing him is like taking a hit of jet, she realises; from the first touch of their lips everything around them slows down and fades away, anchoring them in the present moment, in one another. She imagines that it’s much the same for him, because Hancock kisses her as though he could easily spend the rest of his life doing so, taking his time, savoring her, drinking her in. His thumbs tenderly brush over her cheeks and Sol smiles against his lips again, unable to contain it, not when it comes him.

She leans into him, her fingers grasping the lapels of his red coat, and in the back of her mind she hopes that she will be able to remember every kiss they share from here on out.

“I missed you, too, sunshine,” he says quietly against her mouth, giving her a final, quick kiss before leaning his forehead against hers, pushing his hat up further along his head.

Sol enjoys the contact for several moments until she takes a small step back to admire him. Her eyes crinkle at the sight of the blond curls that poke free from underneath his hat, and she reaches up to arrange them against his forehead, before she returns his hat back to its proper resting place. Not all ghouls were lucky enough to make it out the other side with full heads of hair, and it was a damn shame Hancock tried to keep his mostly hidden beneath a hat, the rest tied in a tiny tail at the nape of his neck.

Hancock smiles fondly at her as she finishes fussing over him.

“How do I look?” he asks teasingly.

“Devastatingly handsome,” Sol replies.

“Heh. Flatterer.”

Sol laughs, but she is interrupted by another yawn, one that makes her entire body shake. Hancock tilts his head to the side, amused yet concerned all the same.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you fed and washed up,” he says and holds out his arm, much like he had when she first crossed the bridge into Sanctuary. “Then, I can tell you a bedtime story until you fall asleep.”

Sol smiles as she gratefully tucks herself against Hancock’s side, sliding her arm around his waist while his drapes across her shoulders, and together they make their way into the settlement.


End file.
